The Experiment

Short…

        Crap, great, this is just great. I'm a little more than five months away from graduation and my guidance counselor tells me I'm two credits short in my Political-Science and Psychology classes. I mean how did miss my credits in those? Oh…

        yeah. I guess that whole MS ordeal may have had something to do with it. Just maybe. I guess I shouldn't have missed those two labs and that major test, huh? Man, it sucks to be the First Daughter, or the third First Daughter as the case happens to be.

        Now, I have to go see Professors Barnes & Noble. Yes, just like the bookstore. My friends and I have gotten plenty of laughs over that. Well, I ain't laughing now.

        Anyway, I have to see them about getting an additional assignment so that I can get caught up and graduate on time. Geez, you'd think there'd be more perks to this.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

You Want Me To What?

        You've got to be kidding me. My words mirror my thoughts exactly. You want me to what?

        "You want me to what? You want me to pretend to be pregnant so that my father gets removed from office, and my uncle Leo has a heart attack? Because that's exactly what's gonna happen after my father kills my boyfriend, who it just so happens, is gonna kill me." They don't look even distantly amused. Hey, I understand. I'm not nearly amused. This isn't a good idea and it isn't funny.

        "Miss Bartlet." I hate it when they say miss like it ends in multiple Zs instead of Ss. And my father, no Toby would have a field day with that sentence structure.

        "Yes?" Well, duh.

        "You are two credits short and you graduate in little more than five months. There's no way for you to get into another class at this late date and still graduate with your class. You can either take this assignment or…you can not." I've always hated ultimatums. That's why my father and I have always gotten along, so well. He gives you choice, but he doesn't give out ultimatums, my mother on the other hand gives them and barely gives you time to do or die. I really need time to think this through. The implications of this go so far…I'm really serious. My father quite possibly could lose his office and we all know that Leo has never been too far away from a heart attack anyway. Professor Stockholm Barnes has never inspired anyone's confidence, definitely not mine, and definitely not now.

        "Take time to think about this, Zoey. But, I really need to know if you're gonna do this so I can go ahead and give you a grade." That's professor Vixen Noble, psychology. She's been like my college mother since I got here. She could easily stand beside my mother leave a jury deadlocked. She, having known my father all his life, even being engaged to him for a time, can go head-to-head on trivial information with him. She's like my father in female form; way too young for her age.

        "If I said yes, how would I be graded?" I direct the question to Professor Noble as the other one really freaks me out.

        "I'm gonna go on the honor system, since I trust you. I'm going to go ahead and give you the credit based on past performance. If you decide to go through with this, you'll be giving me a real-time journal on your encounters with family, friends, and, the public in general. In this, I mean we'll be doing it on a weekly basis, but you will detail everyday a best you can. Once you graduate and the semester is over, I'll be expecting a summary in essay-form detailing the general responses you received and your own response to the experience." That sounds pretty easy, I guess. But as I've heard before, nothing is as easy as it seems.

        "Does this go for both of you?" Why is there always something they conveniently (at least for them) forget to tell you?

        "No, Miss Bartlet." Again with the Zs " For me I will expect you to be monitoring the political aspects of this experiment. I expect there will be speculation and I would like you to write a thesis on the affect that your alleged condition will have on your father's administration." Is this dude serious? Or is he a republican? Ooh, I'm dying to ask, but I won't.

        "Okay."

        "Okay?" Well, what the hell else does he want from me here? A hoorah?

        "Okay, I'll do it. You're right I need these credits. And there's no other way for me to get them without woefully neglecting my other classes. I'll do it. Give me a start date, a place to get the pregnancy-suit, check-in dates, and a deadline for the final papers. " Professor Noble handed me a paper before I'd even finished the statement.

Start Date: December 13, ****

1st check-in : December 20, **** 8th check-in: February 7, ****

2nd check-in : December 27, **** 9th check-in: February 14, ****

3rd check-in: January 3, **** 10th check-in: February 21, ****

4th check-in: January 10, ****

5th check-in: January 17, ****

6th check-in: January 24, ****

7th: check-in: January 31, ****

…Basically every seven days from today to the last day of the semester.

Final paper: Professor Noble; Psychology: June 1, ****

Final Paper: Professor Barnes; Political- Science: May 24, ****

No exceptions!!!

        You can get the pregnancy suit from the drama department. They have it in 3months, 5 months, and 7 months. They also have it in 9 months, but I don't think you'll be needing that one.

        Okay, I can do this. No problem. Who am I kidding? I'm screwed and now I'm taking my dad and his administration down with me.

        You do what you have to do. And I have to do this. May God be with all of us.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

TO: Noble_Vixen@Washington_University.edu

From: 3rd_1stDaughter@White_House.gov

Subject: December 20, ****

        December14: Well, today was eventful to say the least. I swear, I was told there was something different about me thirty times today. Only one came right to my face and said I had gained weight. If only one person noticed, then how the hell did they all get into college?

        Anyway, I just got a call from my mom, she expects me up at the White House in a few days. I guess I sounded too strange, because she asked if I was okay. Of course, I said I was. Then she asked if there was something I needed to tell her and again I said, "No." She didn't believe me. That much I know by now. Lying to one's mother is never easy.

        December15: Midterms suck. I had two pre-midterms. I have two actual midterms on the seventeenth. English and Roman Literature. Both which, thanks to my father's need to tell me things I never wanted to know, are a breeze. But I still have to pack for my trip to the House and write that paper for my Economics class. Which may I add is also a breeze.

        People are finally starting to catch onto the weight thing. I've heard rumors already. And to add to it, I had a hard time getting behind the desk to sit down. I heard mutters at that. I'm gonna have to go shopping at this point. The clothes I wear normally don't hide this very well. No, not at all. Must study, major Psych quiz tomorrow. Yeah, yeah, I know you know.

        December16: Shopping is absolute hell. Shopping for maternity clothes when you're trying not to admit you're pregnant is hell2(squared). I gotta admit, maternity is about the only kind of clothes that will fit me at this point. anything else would be denial. I'm absolutely sure I was seen by some people from school, even from the White House. But, that was the intention right? Hmmm, pack right now. Of course not, I just remembered a paper I have due tomorrow. Crap. So much for packing. Man, I'm hungry. Mmmm pickles M &Ms.

        Oh, my. Please let that be psychosomatic.

        December17: Midterms were today from me. At least two were. They were easy. But, I felt horrible all the way through them. Nauseous. I wonder if that was just psychosomatic too. Someone stopped me in the hall and asked if they could touch my stomach. I was speechless and they took that as a yes. It seemed like everyone chose that moment to stop and stare at me. I saw a whole to of dawning expressions then.

        It hasn't been a week and it's already getting around.

        December18: I didn't have any classes today, thank God. One reason: I couldn't stand it if one more person came over to me and tried to rub my stomach. Another reason: I felt like the crap on the bottom of CJ's shoes. I didn't leave the dorm all day. I had pizza delivered for lunch and Thai for dinner. Finally, my agents, especially Gina are starting to get suspicious of my appearance and enhanced eating habits. It's about time.

        Mom called again. She asked me again if there was something that I needed to tell her and of course again, I said no. She reminded me to pack and I got right to it before I had to get my English thing in.

        December19: Algebra. Easy as 3.14159. I had that same problem with the desk. Damn it. I think I'm actually gaining weight here.

        I finished packing. I leave for the White House tomorrow afternoon. Mom called again. The same dialogue as before.

        People start to mutter when I walk by now. I don't like it. I'm sick every morning. Maybe I should get this checked out.

        December20: I had to stop by Political Science before I left early for my long ride to D.C. Gina came right out and asked, "Am I going to be protecting the first grandchild soon or are you just going through things?" I didn't answer her. I just smiled and said, "Maybe so, maybe not." And kept walking.

        I've just arrived at the White House. So far, so good. But, now I've got to get past my boyfriend, mother, and dad.

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